Canary Cry
by wannabeWriter888
Summary: At 11:59 Laurel Lance died, but what if she was revived minutes later? And what if someone else died in her stead? A rewrite of 4x19, Canary Cry. AU.
1. Part One

_Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or the comics the show is (very, very) loosely based on._

**A/N:** When I originally conceived of the short story, _Daughter of the Demon_, I quickly found other plot bunnies for specific episodes in later seasons where the writers could've made one different choice and the show would've had the potential to be the _Arrow_ I thought I was going to get when I first watched the pilot. This is a rewrite of 4 x 19 as implied in the summary and like with _Daughter of the Demon_, I have plans to continue the story into the rest of season 4 and all of season 5 with this change in mind. More notes on this when I finish posting part 9.

Subnote: I am posting the first part to this story at the same time as my season 5 deviation episode. I'm only going to update one story a week, to buy myself time as I work on _Wed to the Mask, _so which ever story gets the most reviews/requests for more will be the one I update next week.

This chapter is really just a teaser (warning) because of who I kill in place of Laurel.

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Part One

It was a bright and sunny day. The first breath of spring had arrived and with it a verdant coat of new life. Even a few early buds had bloomed, adding splashes of yellow, pink, and violet to the green grass and trees. Birds fluttered around, chirping cheerfully in the gentle breeze of the day. Most people sighed, enjoying the pleasant weather.

Yet there were some who wished for clouds and rain; a torrential thunderstorm to match the deluge of feelings they carried. These people were dressed in black as they made their way through a peaceful cemetery. The mourners walked in an uneven line, moving in groups of twos and threes. There was over a dozen of them in total, all somber-faced and red-eyed.

Towards the back of their number trailed John Diggle. Despair was written on his face. His wife, Lyla Michaels, had to lead him forward with a firm grip. Shame and regret bowed John's head and shoulders, yet he had to come. He couldn't not attend this funeral. John blamed himself for what had happened. First, because he'd trust when he shouldn't have. Second, because he hadn't been there when it mattered most. He wasn't the only one struggling with guilt.

Oliver Queen trudged ahead of John and Lyla. He walked with a stoic mien and his head held high, but self-recriminations beat an ugly anthem through his head. He tried so hard to be the hero, to stand in the light, and that decision cost him everything. As if sensing the lashings of his thoughts, his companion touched his arm. Nyssa had chosen to accompany Oliver, for once not making a quip about being his wife. Today, she was here as his friend and comrade. She wished she knew a better way to support him in his grief, but comfort was a kindness that had been bled out of her as a child.

Their somber group reached the casket awaiting them. Behind the dark coffin, there yawned an empty hole, ready to accept its charge. The woman on Quentin Lance's arm sobbed at the sight and collapsed into his embrace as her grief consumed her.

She'd held onto some denial, some hope, as they'd lead the procession to this plot. Now, the cold reality couldn't be denied any longer. Her daughter was dead. Gone. Never to breath or smile or help the world again.

Quentin held Donna Smoak in his arms, knowing there was nothing he could say or do that would comfort her in this moment.

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**A/N2**: Yes, Felicity dies. Any hardcore fans who won't read a story without her, sorry but of the characters I felt Arrow could've/should've put in the grave, it was between Quentin, her, and Diggle. I've already done the Quentin route and Diggle's storyline with Andy wasn't finished so it couldn't be him. If you don't like this choice, please don't read any further and please don't leave any nasty reviews.

Thank you for reading!


	2. Part Two

_Disclaimer: see part one._

**A/N:** An by number of reviews, this story wins. I will be updating Alea Iacta Est next weekend, just to draw out suspense. To everyone who reviewed/favorite'd/followed this story, thank you! Your feedback helps a lot. Thank you for reading!

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Part Two

**58 Hours Earlier**

Oliver collapsed against the wall the second Dr. Schwartz called the time of death. 11:59.

No, no, nono. NO!

She couldn't be dead. Not Dinah Laurel Lance. Not his Laurel, who minutes ago was acknowledging he was the love of her life while encouraging him to fight for Felicity in the same breath. Not after that confession she'd whispered to him. She couldn't be gone.

Yet he could see the sympathy in Dr. Schwartz's eyes. The nurses unplugged the machines and stepped back. The doctor reached out to Oliver, to offer him some comfort. He shook his head in denial.

A woman in black swooped into the room in the next breath.

She slipped between the startled nurses and brushed back her hood to reveal the face of Nyssa Raatko. From the whispering folds of her cloak, she produced a syringe with a large, thick needle. A liquid, almost luminescent and green, filled the vessel. Before anyone could stop her, Nyssa plunged the needle into Laurel's unmoving chest. Dr. Schwartz objected in a wordless cry, but neither she nor the nurses moved in time to prevent Nyssa from hitting the plunger.

The liquid was pumped directly into Laurel's heart. In the next heartbeat, Nyssa had removed the syringe. She dropped the vial to the ground and began CPR on Laurel. She elbowed one nurse in the nose, the first and only one who tried to stop her. The nurse stumbled back, blood spurting between the fingers around his nose.

"Don't. Let her," Oliver croaked.

Dr. Schwartz turned to Oliver, seeking an explanation. He only had eyes for the woman on the bed. After a count of twenty, Nyssa gave Laurel mouth-to-mouth before resuming compressions. She'd just reached number three, when Laurel gasped on her own.

For a moment, Laurel stared at Nyssa. Her mouth tried to form a word, but then she collapsed. Her eyes fluttered shut but her chest rose and fell with gentle breaths. Nyssa checked her pulse and found it steady. She intentionally crunched the syringe she'd used, turning the glass to dust. Dr. Schwartz marched over, and Nyssa let her check on Laurel.

As the doctor and uninjured nurses re-hooked Laurel to the machines, verifying she was very much alive, Nyssa stalked towards Oliver.

"How?" he murmured, unable to believe his eyes. Terrified if he blinked, it wouldn't be real.

"**Sara found a loophole**," Nyssa replied softly, in Arabic; "**She convinced my father to give her a vial of water from the Lazarus Pit, long before I was born. Then a month ago, she gave me that vial and told me what needed to be done**."

"**Waters from the Pit. Nyssa, how could you**?"

"**My Beloved showed me what would happen if I did not. A terrible future that you can stop, but only if Laurel is by your side**."

Without another word, Nyssa left.

Oliver sagged against the wall. His heart beat rapidly in relief and horror. Laurel was alive, but she was supposed to have died. She would be dead, right now, if not for the resourcefulness of her time-traveling sister.

Laurel had died.

And the Lazarus Pit revived her.


	3. Part Three

_Disclaimer: see part one._

**A/N:** And the chapter that changes it all. . .

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Part Three

"Baby, how are you feeling?" Quentin rushed to Laurel's side as she woke.

"Achy, like I've just gotten over the flu. And thirsty," Laurel rasped.

"Here," Thea moved to Laurel's other side. The younger Queen offered a cup and straw for Laurel to use. "What happened?" Laurel asked as she raised the bed to a sitting position. She could see the harried expressions that mingled with relief on their faces.

Laurel spotted Oliver standing guard near the door. For a moment, their eyes met, before Laurel quickly glanced away. She didn't want to see the questions or betrayal in his eyes. She'd thought she was dying when she made her confessions. If she'd known she was going to live, she wouldn't have, especially not that last one . . .

"Baby, you died," Quentin choked out, snapping Laurel's attention back to him.

"What?!"

Quentin pressed Laurel back into her bed before she hurt herself further, then he shared a look with the two Queens before gently explaining what had happened.

Meanwhile, in another part of Star City, John parked his car outside the mayor's home. He and Felicity Smoak had checked on Laurel while she was sleeping. They were all relieved that she'd survived, though obviously concerned about the means of her recovery. Still, it had been a long few days and some of them needed to rest before Darhk struck again. They'd agreed to watch Laurel in shifts. Oliver would take first watch, John second, and so on. Felicity had asked John for a ride, but now that they'd reached her destination, he wasn't certain it had been a good idea.

"I'll be fine," Felicity assured him; "Someone needs to tell the mayor the good news."

Despite his concerns, Felicity exited his car. He suggested that he back her up, but she argued that Ruve wouldn't try anything in her own home. The mayor had an image to maintain after all. And Felicity was confident she could handle Ruve, even if the woman did try something. John eventually conceded to Felicity's plan and left. There really was no point in arguing with her once she had her mind made up.

Once in his apartment, he checked on the twins, JJ and Sara, as they slept in their room. Then John led Lyla to the couch where he confessed his part in what had happened to Laurel – his folly in trusting his brother and how deep that betrayal stung.

Back at the mayor's home, Felicity sauntered into Ruve Adam's private office. "You seem oddly pleased for a woman whose friend is near death in the hospital," Ruve commented.

"That's because your husband failed. The doctors say Laurel is going to make a full recovery. How does it feel to know you've married a failure? That no matter what plans you make, you'll lose, and we'll win," Felicity couldn't help but gloat a little.

She failed to realize the danger until it was too late. Two hands clamped around her head and wrenched. Felicity's body crumpled to the ground as Damien Darhk seethed. "What? No witty comeback for me now, Ms. Smoak? What a shame."

"Really, Damien? I thought you were trying to be discreet," Rube tutted her secret husband.

"Her? She's a nobody who thought herself somebody important. Like Icarus, she flew too close to the sun and met the fate she so richly deserved," Damien waved off Ruve's concerns. He worked to keep a lid on his anger over the news the late Ms. Smoak had delivered. "I'll dispose of the body. No one will know she died here."

As most of Star City remained unaware of Ruve's ties to him, her home was the best place for him to lay low while he reconsidered his options. Damien was a man who enjoyed power and didn't like to share. He was also a man of his word, at least when it came to punishing those who failed or betrayed him. This meant the situation with Laurel Lance needed to be rectified, immediately.

"What are you planning?" Ruve knew her husband too well.

"I'm going to kill Laurel Lance, and this time I'll make certain she's dead before I leave."

"And that?" Ruve indicated the body.

"Oh, I know just the place to leave that," Damien smiled ruthlessly.

* * *

**A/N2**: Random side note, with regards to the Diggle twins, I like to write the story post-Flashpoint, which is what I did in _Daughter of the Demon_ and _Black is the Cry_. If I continue into the S5 rewrite from this deviation, I'll reveal what other changes Flashpoint had after the fact.


	4. Part Four

_Disclaimer: see part one._

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Part Four

Laurel closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep when she heard her door open. She prayed it wasn't Oliver. After what she'd been told of her miraculous recovery, she wasn't up for dealing with the secrets she'd told him. She'd lucked out earlier and had truly fallen asleep during Oliver's watch – he hadn't had the chance to catch her alone as her dad had stayed with her until she drifted off.

"Laurel, honey, I need you to wake up," her dad shook her gently.

"Did something happen?"

"You haven't left the building, have you?" he countered.

"No. It's a little hard to at the moment," Laurel gestured to her injured side. The Pit may have revived her, but it wasn't healing her quickly. It wasn't as if she'd been fully submerged in its healing powers.

"And your sister, she hasn't popped in to check on you?"

"No. Dad, what's going on?"

"There was an attack on several drug dealers early this morning. They suspect the Black Canary. Somehow, she had that device you scream through."

"And?"

"They're dead, sweetie. The dealers are dead."

"The police are blaming the Black Canary?" Laurel's heartrate picked up. She tossed off the blanket that was covering her, struggling to climb off the bed.

"Whoa, whoa. Laurel, stop. Calm down, sweetheart," Quentin pushed her back; "You're in no condition to go charging into battle."

"Quentin? Laurel?" Thea stepped into the room in concern.

"It's all right, Thea. Actually, why don't you keep an eye on Laurel. Make sure she gets the rest she needs." Thea nodded in agreement to Quentin's plan and shut the door behind her.

"Dad," Laurel ground out.

"I'll handle this. Trust me," Quentin shot Laurel a pleading look. "Okay," she consented after a second. She wanted to find this imposter herself, but the pain in her abdomen had doubled and already she felt exhausted from what little she'd done. She had no choice but to admit defeat.

Quentin left Thea watching over the drowsy Laurel. He stepped outside and started down the hall, Oliver easily falling into step with him. "It wasn't Laurel or Sara."

"Then we need to figure out how someone got their hands on the collar and find them, fast," Oliver noted.

"Where is Laurel's . . . things?"

"I removed her mask before anyone noticed, but Dr. Schwartz removed the collar when they were cutting off her suit. We'll have to ask her where they put the gear."

They found Dr. Schwartz who discreetly led them to her office. From a locked drawer on her desk, she produced the evidence bag which contained Laurel's destroyed suit, utility belt, and the arrow which had been used to stab her. "Take it with you. My people and I told the police it must've been lost during the rush to save Ms. Lance's life."

"Do you trust your people?" Quentin asked as Oliver gingerly shifted through the items, looking for the collar.

"Half of them are convinced she was at a hero dress-up party that ended badly. The rest believe she was undercover. As the wounds weren't caused by a gunshot, I invoked patient confidentiality," Dr. Schwartz said tersely.

"It's not here," Oliver frowned.

Dr. Schwartz refused to give them any leads. She protected the rights of her patients fiercely. She did admit to a twenty-or-so minute interval in which the bag was left unattended in the emergency room before she had it moved to her office. Quentin thanked Dr. Schwartz for her discretion, then the men continued to investigate.

"A pity we couldn't get access to the hospital's footage for five minutes," Quentin said as they left the building. He felt the loss of his badge quite keenly in that moment.

"We already have it," Oliver admitted, and caught Quentin's questioning look. "Felicity hacked their systems while Laurel was in surgery. She backed up a copy for us, then erased their footage to protect our identities."

Oliver tried calling Felicity to ask her to start scrubbing the recordings for their thief, but he went straight to voicemail. Quentin suggested that maybe she was finally sleeping or busy at work. Oliver didn't disagree, but he felt a pit form in his stomach. He and Quentin headed for the Bunker – they both knew enough about computers to search the footage without help. John met them at the doorway. "Hey, have you heard from Felicity? She's not answering my calls."

"Not since this morning, when she left with you," Oliver whipped out his phone and speed-dialed his ex.

The three men hurried towards the hidden elevator. They knew if Felicity was in danger, they would need the resources in the Bunker to find and protect her. Yet the second they reached the elevator, they knew something was wrong.

The outer doors had been wedged open, leaving the elevator not-so hidden anymore.

They called up the cart and entered with trepidation. John and Quentin pulled out their firearms while Oliver stood between them, his fists tightly squeezed. The elevator dinged to announce their arrival.

The doors opened.

Quentin cursed.

John dropped his gun.

Oliver stumbled forward and fell to his knees.

Before them, Felicity dangled.

Dead.


	5. Part Five

_Disclaimer: see part one._

**A/N:** So, certain scenes I imagine could happen as they did on the show (wouldn't know because I refuse to watch the season). Based off of a recap, I've implied a number of them but if I don't do a good job of conveying that, please let me know.

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Part Five

Oliver was supposed to relieve Thea at the hospital, but he was late. After several texts and multiple ignored calls, Laurel shooed Thea away. Darhk wasn't likely to attack in the middle of the day, not when he was a fugitive and this a public hospital. Thea left Laurel with a burner, and strict instructions to call if Ollie didn't show in half an hour. Then Thea went to meet Alex for a late lunch-date.

Well, the date never happened as Thea had to save her boyfriend from a Canary-wannabe. Then she accompanied him back to the hospital where she learned Oliver was still a no-show. Clearly, something big was going down and none of the Neanderthal males had deigned to include her. That just wouldn't do.

Thea headed for the Bunker. She knew she could weasel the truth out of Felicity.

She knew something terrible had happened when she found the elevator. By the time the cart finished its descent, Thea was prepared for bad news. She still wasn't prepared for what she found.

Felicity lay abnormally still on a table. Her neck was twisted at an unnatural angle.

Oliver trembled in a chair next to the body. His head was bowed, his fingers touching Felicity's unmoving ones.

John leaned against the nearest wall. He flexed his fist and glanced at the body. There were tear stains on his cheeks.

Quentin was at the computers, having finally accessed the Bunker's internal surveillance. He had the footage rewinding.

"How?" Thea croaked out and found her throat closed with grief, preventing her from finishing her question. She grabbed a safety rail to support herself.

"Darhk," John growled; "He did this. Felicity. . . she wanted to send a message to him through Ruve . . . I shouldn't have let her go alone. This is my fault."

"That's a load of bull," Quentin snapped; "This is on Damien Darhk and him alone."

Quentin stabbed a digit at the screen behind him. Darhk was frozen on the screen, giving them the finger as he left their base. The sight of that man's, no, that monster's smirk sparked Thea's rage. It wasn't quite like the bloodlust, but so very, very close. He'd made this fight personal, just like he had when he took William, but this time he'd gone too far.

"He's going to pay for this."

"He will, once we find him, but he's not the only problem we need to fix," Quentin reminded the team. He wished they could hit pause on all their troubles, to give them all the time they needed to grieve. They were at war though, and they had to keep moving or they'd lose; "We need to catch whoever's out there, pretending to be Black Canary. And we need to put surveillance on Ruve's house, in case Darhk's still there . . . He's going to go after Laurel, to finish what he started."

"We won't let him," Oliver declared. He stood up and stepped away from the body. His face was hard, cold. "I need to tell Donna what's happened. Dig, please look into the imposter. She took the collar from the hospital. I'll help you once I'm done. . . Quentin, Thea, you should watch Laurel. Let me know if he shows there and be careful."

"Laurel, she doesn't know," Thea gestured towards Felicity. "It's okay, I'll tell her," Quentin said gently, understanding that Thea wasn't up to the task. He had experience in the department, though on days like today he wished he didn't; "I could tell Donna too."

"No. Thank you, but she needs to hear this from me," Oliver replied.

Stiffly, they began to move, knowing that if they didn't, they'd fall back into their grief. Quentin moved out of John's way, so that he could access the computer. Oliver found a blanket to cover up Felicity's supine form and Quentin helped him. Thea gathered all the smaller weapons she could get her hands on, thinking it would be nice if they had a way to contact Nyssa to ask her for backup. Then Quentin and Thea took the elevator up. Oliver and John shared a look, both glancing at the body, before returning to their tasks with great effort.

Darhk hadn't broken them, but he'd come very close.


	6. Part Six

_Disclaimer: see part one._

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Part Six

Ruve's words taunted Oliver as he rushed to the hospital. He'd come back from delivering the news to Donna and found John gone. He'd thought Diggle had made progress on the imposter case, but he had a bad feeling when he noticed Spartan's gear was also gone. He'd tracked Spartan's signal and barely managed to talk his friend out of murdering Ruve Darhk in revenge. She'd had the last laugh, telling him her husband was on his way to kill Laurel and anyone who got in his way.

Oliver drove while John tried to call Quentin to warn him. No answer. He tried Thea. Same result. Oliver ignored the speed limit and pushed the bike faster around the street corners and streets.

Meanwhile, the hospital was under attack.

Thea had left Laurel and Quentin for a few minutes to check on Alex. She was two floors down when the power went out, leaving her trapped on an elevator with three strangers. Laurel looked to her dad as the emergency lights flickered on. "It has to be Darhk."

"Can you move?"

"I don't really have a choice," Laurel winced as she swung her legs off the bed. She stood, clutching at her injured side and breathed through her nose until the pain subsided. "Let's go."

Quentin exited the room first, gun drawn. He checked left, then right, before nodding the all-clear to Laurel. They decided to take the stairs, knowing the elevators might be stuck. They chose the stairs in another wing, suspecting Darhk might be waiting for them on the closer ones.

The emergency lights continued to flicker. Shadows leapt at them from every corner. They cleared one hall, encountering no one along the way. They reached an intersection of three halls. Quentin gestured that they would go straight. He took two steps into the intersection, then a food cart slammed into him. The cart hit Quentin in the head and shoulders, its wheels a good two feet off the floor. Quentin and the cart crashed into the wall, then both dropped to the floor.

"Dad!" Laurel darted forward, dropping to her knees despite the lashing pain in her side.

She shoved the cart off him and found him unconscious. There was a gushing cut on his forehead. She felt for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when she found one. A cruel, mocking laughter jerked her head upright. Damien stalked towards her from the end of the hall. He wore a billowing black trench coat, a matching fedora, and a heartless smile.

Laurel pushed herself to her feet. She knew Darhk was there to kill her and that he'd leave her dad alive, if only to watch him suffer. Her first few steps were shaky, then Laurel was running the hall her dad had tried to lead her down. "Fly, fly as fast as you can. It won't do you any good, Ms. Lance," Damien crooned, his taunt as steady and sure as his steps.

She neared the stairs. Only for the fire doors in front of her to clank shut. Try as she might to open the doors, they wouldn't budge. Darhk walked towards her, giving her a teasing wave with his fingers. Laurel gave up on the doors and rushed towards her left, down another hall which would bring her back to the one she'd started out in. She stopped halfway down that hall, stood for a moment, then pivoted.

There was no point in running. She couldn't escape Darhk. Her side was on fire. Her breaths were coming in ragged gasps. She'd died the other night without a fight, and she very well wasn't going to do the same tonight. There was a fire extinguisher on the wall. Laurel tugged it loose and held it before her. Any weapon was better than none. Darhk chuckled when he saw her fighting stance.

She was angry and grieving, and yes even afraid, but she was defiant. He would likely kill her, but he wouldn't win. Laurel raised her weapon and screamed a war cry.

Lights exploded. Glass shattered. Damien Darhk was knocked back into a wall from the force of her cry. Laurel quieted in shock. She dropped the fire extinguisher and barely heard it clang and roll. Darhk climbed to his feet. He raised a hand. Laurel sucked in a breath, prepared to scream again.

An arrow hit the ground at Darhk's feet. It exploded in a white cloud. Then the Green Arrow was grabbing Laurel's arm from behind. "This way," he cried.

"My dad!"

"Spartan has him," Green Arrow pulled her into the nearest room. He shattered the window, then shot a grappling arrow to a building across the street. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, and she wrapped both of hers around his neck. Laurel drew blood, biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain as they glided to safety.

What had she just done?

* * *

**A/N:** So, Oliver did not see Laurel scream, the sound is what alerted him to her location but he arrived late and doesn't suspect the damage done was her doing. There's no easy way to address this fact in the story, so I'm noting in here to avoid confusion. Next week I will update _Alea iacta Est_ unless someone requests otherwise.


	7. Part Seven

_Disclaimer: see part one._

* * *

Part Seven

Everything was falling apart around them.

Ruve Adams had publicly smeared Black Canary's reputation. She'd blamed the known female vigilante for the attacks on the dead dealers, Alex, and herself. She'd quite easily dismissed the suggestion of a copycat, using herself as a witness, and until they found the imposter, they couldn't prove her wrong.

Quentin was resting in the Bunker with a concussion while Laurel's stitches had to be redone. Darhk was still at large and a danger to everyone.

And Felicity Smoak was dead.

Oliver and Diggle couldn't accept that last fact. Even as her body lay under the blanket in the Bunker. A glimpse of blonde hair peeked out to taunt them.

Thea had been on the brink of death and come back to them. Sara Lance had been dead for a year before her revival and Laurel had been saved only hours before. There had to be a chance for Felicity, right?

This led to Oliver and John checking every former League safehouse in Star City that they knew about. Getting desperate, they tried Sara's old clocktower. There they found Nyssa and made their plea.

"I am sorry, but I cannot. Sara only gave me the one vial. Even if I had another, it is too late. A full Pit would be required to revive her. Felicity is dead. There is nothing we can do to save her," Nyssa explained gently. She was truly sympathetic to their pain but had no solution to undo this death.

"No, that can't be. You said Sara found a loophole, there has to be one for Felicity," John shook his head.

"Even if there was a way to use the Pit, only one person can take Darhk's life. Would you condemn one of your friends to a life of bloodlust? Please, Oliver. If there was a way, Sara would've found it, she would've told us," Nyssa reasoned.

Oliver looked at her with heartbroken eyes and a face in anguish. He tilted his head, acknowledging the raw truth.

"John," he rasped, turning to his friend. Diggle saw his face and shook his head more, forcibly. He tried to back away, but Oliver followed him. "John, we have to let her go."

"No."

"Yes. Felicity . . . she's not coming back," tears flowed down Oliver's cheeks as acceptance fitfully settled in his chest. "She's . . . she's dead."

"No, she can't be. It's Felicity, Oliver," the pain in Dig's expression was so powerful. So similar to the gaping hole Oliver felt in his own chest. Yet he knew he had to be strong, to get his friend to see the truth or they would never be able to move forward. To avenge Felicity.

"I know John, I know. I want her back too, but . . . we can't. We have to accept it. Felicity is gone."

John fell to his knees with a sob, unable to deny the truth any longer. Not when Oliver said the words with heartache and conviction. Oliver put a hand on Diggle's shoulder and knelt beside him.

Together, they grieved.

* * *

**A/N:** This is supposed to replace that scene between Quentin and Oliver, which I've heard was very powerful . . . Let's pretend I'm a better writer than I am and that this scene was heartrendingly acted out. Feelings? Complaints? Reviews help me write better, and more! Thanks for reading.


	8. Part Eight

_Disclaimer: see part one._

* * *

Part Eight

Laurel's side ached and her suit wasn't helping. She was fairly certain the doctors would pitch a fit if they knew what she was doing. She also knew she had to do this. The Darhks had nearly taken her life, she wouldn't let them take this from her. They wouldn't ruin the Black Canary name, not after all she'd done to earn her place as a vigilante – there were a lot of mistakes along the way, but that was the path she'd taken, and she was proud of the final result.

Her imposter struck at Ruve Darhk and the team was there to stop her. Evelyn Sharp was the girl's name. They knew that now, and how Evelyn's parents had died. It was a terrible, sad story, but Evelyn was lashing out. She wasn't thinking.

The vigilantes were more concerned with protecting Evelyn from Ruve's security detail than they were interested in safeguarding the mayor. Laurel watched as the Green Arrow blocked Evelyn from Ruve. Speedy and Spartan were in the thick of things too, but they kept their distance to keep from spooking Evelyn. Laurel was present too, as the Black Canary. She tried to look as if she were involved, but her focus was on staying upright. Her dad whispered encouragements in her ear while Green Arrow talked Evelyn down.

At the Arrow's signal, Laurel took a deep breath and walked into the fray. She could feel Ruve's heated gaze on her as she asked for the collar back. Evelyn handed the device over and Laurel put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "You're not alone. We've lost loved ones as well, and Darhk will pay for all he's taken," she promised the girl. Maybe it was the bloodlust talking, but Laurel felt a certainty in her bones that Damien would die – and now she knew it would be at her hand.

There weren't enough witnesses to undo the damage that Evelyn and Ruve had caused to her reputation. Her dad had a solution for that. So, back in the Bunker, Laurel found herself facing the same camera Oliver had used months earlier. As Black Canary, she addressed the city.

"I know you've heard stories about me these last few days. The actions Mayor Adams accused of me. They were untrue. A young woman, angry and grieving, tried to assume my identity without thinking about the consequences. I ask that you not hold this against her, or me. I know trust is a fragile gift, that my words may not be enough. I hope you will give me the chance to prove I am a vigilante who fights for this city, not against it. Black Canary, signing off."

Laurel stepped away from the camera's focus and pried her suit open. She breathed slowly, to keep from moaning – she wished she could take something for the pain, but her sobriety was more important. Her dad and Nyssa helped her into a chair. "Do you think it will work?"

"We're sending a copy to all the local stations and we've uploaded it online," Oliver answered woodenly; "Once people hear from you, it should help."

"Good," Laurel sighed. Unintentionally, her gave flickered to where Felicity's body had rested.

They'd taken the body to a funeral home earlier that day, but Laurel couldn't get the memory out of her head. She wasn't the only one.

They may have stopped Evelyn Sharp's rampage and saved Black Canary's reputation, but the victory felt hollow without their friend.

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**A/N:** I know, it's short. Sorry about that. The next chapter will wrap up this episodic rewrite. Then, if enough people are interested, I'll follow-up with how this change could've affected the rest of the season and beyond.


	9. Part Nine

_Disclaimer: Try part one._

**A/N:** Since** prismdream**s pointed out how Oliver is reacting less devastated than others, I felt I should warn you all before this chapter begins. He is devastated by Felicity's loss, though they were exes he hasn't had enough time to get over her and now has lost her. The interpretation I'm going with for his character in this AU is that he's feeling too much between Laurel's confessions, her death/resurrection, and Felicity's murder. He's gone numb and is emotionally pulling away from everyone, a fact I'll explore more in the sequel, the rest of S4, and which I'll compound further in the S5 rewrite (whenever I get around to them).

A big thanks to all who've read and review, favorited and followed this story!

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Part Nine

Three days ago, she'd been stabbed and lay in a hospital, near death. She'd died. Been brought back to life. Lost a good friend. And none of it felt real anymore.

The rational part of Laurel knew it was the shock catching up to her. So much had changed in such a short span, she needed time to process. Yet processing wouldn't make the truth any easier. She wasn't the same person she'd been before. She didn't know what that meant for her, but she was going to have to find out. Three days ago, Laurel had thought she knew what she wanted in life.

Now, Laurel stood next to Thea at Felicity Smoak's funeral. Donna sobbed in front of them. Diggle shook as he and Lyla stood on Quentin's other side. Briefly, Laurel remembered Tommy's funeral and the first one they'd held for Sara – the pain she'd felt at those memorials was too much like the sorrow she currently knew. Too many, they'd lost too many good people in this fight.

Oliver walked to the front of the crowd. His eyes were bloodshot. His pain clear as day on his face. Yet his voice was strong as he gave Felicity's eulogy.

"I only knew Felicity a few short years, but my life will forever be changed because of her. I loved her, will always love her. Felicity, she made all the lives around her, brighter. She made me a better man. She was brave and kind. Brilliant with a computer. She wanted to make the world a better place, and she did with her presence. It's a cruelty, to have lost her so soon . . .

Oliver placed a hand on her casket. "Goodbye, Felicity," he half-sobbed. He stood there, staring at the coffin for so long, the other mourners began to move, believing he was done. Then he spoke again, his eyes still on the casket, and his next words shocked everyone present.

"Before her death, Felicity revealed to me she was Overwatch, a vigilante. She was a less known member of the Green Arrow's team. His eyes and ears. She guided him behind the scenes. She watched over the team, and wherever she is now, she will continue to do so, over all of us."

Oliver looked up and beyond the other mourners he found a vision dressed in black. Blonde hair in that ponytail she loved, glasses a touch askew, and a mischievous grin just for him. Felicity. She was still with him. Good. He didn't ever want to let her go.

Later, after he finished his phone call with Barry, he opened the door to his limo and found her waiting. His Felicity. Oliver slipped into his seat and promised her that Darhk would die. She was glad, supportive even. Then his vision vanished when the other door opened. Laurel slid into the seat next to him.

"Were you talking to someone?" she asked him.

"Barry," he lied easily. Laurel nodded and faced forward.

"How long do you think, before the bloodlust sets in?" she asked quietly.

"Not long."

"I'm not sure I have it in me."

"I'll help you, but first, we need to find out how we kill him."

Laurel could think of one way, the scream she'd used which had sent Damien flying. That kind of power had to be capable of so much more. Yet Laurel didn't mention her thoughts to Oliver. She hadn't told anyone what she'd done in that hallway. And as she contemplated using that scream to make Darhk pay, to ensure he could never hurt another living person again, she found the thought didn't disturb her as much as it once had. If he had to die, so that others would live, Laurel could live with that.

Oliver glanced at Laurel without her noticing. He hadn't forgotten her confession, but he had more important matters on his mind. He had his mirage of Felicity to maintain, for one. He was also plotting how to make Darhk suffer for what he'd done. Oliver accepted that he couldn't be the one to end Damien's life, but he would make him pay for what he'd done to Felicity, no matter what anyone else thought. This Oliver promised himself.

The limo rolled forward with Oliver and Laurel inside. Silence stretched between them alongside their secrets and the darkness of their thoughts.

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**A/N2:** Remember the hallucinations Oliver had way back in S2, yeah, I'm building off that. First, to explain away the flashforward that showed Felicity "alive" and second, because I have a very complicated head-canon that I crafted for this AU, which I'll delve into slowly. I did tweak Oliver's conversation with Barry since technically Barry doesn't have his superspeed at this time. Anyway, let me know what you think!


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